Repost: Bikram Yoga and the 14th Board(s)

For over five years I have been doing Bikram Yoga. I originally felt the need to do so because I was getting tight from weight lifting and a little loose in the mid-section from eating. I have stayed on because it works, in every since of the word. It is a total body workout and helps heal at the same time. The carpal tunnel symptoms in my wrist have gone away and my surgically repaired right shoulder feels so good I may return to baseball at some point. Just like anything else worthwhile, it is not easy. The room itself is 105F and some of the postures would make Gumby scream. By the end of it all you are simply a deluge of sweat. As with all things, though, I have noticed a few things while moving through the practice.

As I had when I played baseball, I tend to go through the same routine before each session. I get to the studio at least a half hour early and run up the stairs like a mountain goat. I greet, or am greeted and I simply nod, the teacher at the desk and take my shoes off before signing in. If the room is empty enough (there may have been a class before) I put my mat and towel down in the same exact spot as I have had the majority of my seven hundred(?) classes. I then either stretch a little bit, depending on the time, or exit the room to see who else is arriving. I  do a leg stretch on the windows to see my yoga friends as they park their cars, and i know most of the car/yogi combinations. I greet a few of them as they walk in, unless I'm in the room getting myself ready. I usually wet my hair five minutes before class starts; to give myself a head start. If I feel loose enough from stretching, and I usually try to hit every muscle I can (a habit from my playing days) I wander out and chat with either Elaine, Leslie, Deb,  ED, Rob Dr. W. or whomever is sitting on the benches. The time of day it is depends on who is present, as some people go early in the day or later depending on their schedules. With a few minutes left until class I check to see if I must evacuate any more fluids from my body before entering the room for good.

Oddly enough I position myself in the front of the class, on the left middle area right in front of the studio length mirror. I don't get nervous at all being here and most of the people who have been coming a while practice in the front. You think as someone with AS I wouldn't want everyone in the room to have the option of staring at me. People are so busy doing their own practice that it doesn't matter. There is that and also the fact that each time I look in the mirror I get to stop and think how cute I look (although I’m still the dateless wonder). I'm dressed in all blue (not surprisingly to those in the know about why that color is significant) and even my hand towel and water bottle are shades of it. I wish the company who made my mat had the proper color available, which they didn't at the time I bought it, but I can always get another. 

We start off with a breathing exercise, after the instructor gives a speech to any first timers, and sometimes I mutter Good luck ****ers under my breath to mark their presence as newcomers. Just as the instructor says “stare into the mirror and enjoy your practice” I put on the face that many people don’t get to see, ever, at least without my sunglasses on. It is a blank piercing stare that has a ability to make people nervous, trust me I know. There is nothing behind my eyes during this time and I appear to be staring through the mirror at something in the back of the building. It is funny (to me) but it looks like a face that could be either on the verge of tears or a person who’s seen a ghost. I can look surprised at times, surprised without showing any emotion, if that is even possible. Coincidentally it is also a face of concentration and in class it does double duty. If I reach up to scratch my eye or something I won't even blink.

I will break character if something funny happens, and I do laugh at every joke (no matter how small) the teacher works into the dialogue. I'm a complete slave to the dialogue and hang on every word and nuance. I will do whatever they tell me to, except murder; that's the line. When to floor series arrives, and the person next to me is a good friend, I will break any tension remaining by doing what I affectionately refer to as The Face. In between the first and second sets and, timing it perfectly with what the teacher is saying, I turn my head real fast towards the person on my right and greet them with one of the goofiest looks they have ever seen. After the brief moment has passed I go back to my standard expression, hopefully notching another laugh on my belt from the person the look was intended for. Timing is key and sometimes the whole thing goes unnoticed, and every meow and again I will get the bonus of the teacher seeing it. There is also a lot of time to relax between killing yourself in the postures on the floor.

I am still able to effectively think about other things during the little savasana 's or breaks between each posture. Try as I might, my mind is never able to go completely blank. It is like trying to calm down a tornado. I usually don't have time to think too long because I'm just trying to relax as much as possible after the last posture, and before the next. It's not long, only 20 seconds or so. There is a 2 minute break after the standing series when we all lie down on our mats with our eyes open. Our eyes are supposed to be open for the entire 90 minutes. I strategically position myself near the same little heat vent, that protrudes from the duct work, each class. This is partly because it is in good alignment with the mirror in front of me (we all hate getting stuck in the middle of the mirror line crack) and the other being the board ceiling scheme I relate to. In the little area I have chosen the ceiling has fourteen boards ( it has more in that section but fourteen of which are encompassed in a little bordered off area composed of the duct work) and the two on the ends, each #14 if you were to count from either direction, are a little different than the rest. If realized that they represent me very well. As always, let me explain.

The first board is small and sort of half hidden by the wall border, but it is clear that you could see more of it if it wasn't occluded. What could be back there? Perhaps a larger more interesting piece that would be worthwhile to get to know? It’s like an ice berg that you see but don't know how much more lies hidden beneath the frigid emotionless ocean. This is also the board that represents Asperger’s. You can’t see the whole picture of any person just by looking at them, and this is for any case. People can have a lot of different things going on upstairs, some with more toys in the attic than others. Some you want to know about, some you don’t, and most people aren't open about that stuff anyways. I’m not most people. The second board is much wider, cracked and in plain sight.

This board only feels ugly but denies itself of the character it has and tries to hide it from everyone else, although it does so in plain sight. The color is a little darker than all the others so it is easy to point out and laugh at. Then again this board doesn't care what you think of it (boards don't have feelings anyways) and even if it did the insults are water off a ducks back.

The first board is me now, still a sheltered person who is hiding from who he wants to be. People are always trying to expose my other half but I still don't think I am ready. There is a lot of potential there if the right person (woman) were to take a look. The second board is me before I lost 20 pounds (again). I was unhappy with the way I looked but didn't have enough drive to do much about it. I just went on for years living in disgust of myself. That person has nearly disappeared, but I am still not ready to fully become the other board just yet.

I share all this with you because Bikram Yoga Merrimack Valley is like my other family. I feel at home and welcome there. You may have realized that there is something different about me and it's in your nature to separate differences in people whether you know it or not. I count the lights, mirrors and windows in the studio compulsively( 14, 9 and 7, respectively). I do have to act around you most of the time, as fitting in socially isn't one of my strong points. I'm not big on small talk, and saying hello and asking how your day is going isn't something I'm good at. I tend to give you a nod as my form of acknowledgement. I’m don’t change to suit people nor do I expect them to do so for me. The fact is, being around people puts more stress on my brain than I really need. Reading and picking up all of the social cues, interpreting what is meant in language, both verbal and non verbal, is very taxing after a few hours. I have tempered my brain over the years and no when to pursue and when to back off. Luckily yoga doesn't last that long and none of you have seen me when my social skills are gone, only returning when I take a nap or completely isolate myself. I doubt you ever will see what it is really like at that point and luckily I don't leave the house until that time is over. I didn't even let my mom see it when I lived with her. You're not missing much as I’m like talking to a wall at that point.

As far as autism and yoga go I'm not the only one who visits the BYMV studio, but I'll leave that person to tell you their own story. 

Feel free to read any post you want on here and make comments as you choose. I update often enough. Just don’t post on my Facebook wall, as that is public. Private message me via Facebook or you can write anything you choose for this blog ONLY, anything else will be erased. Some of the stuff on here gets personal, OK a lot of it does. I don’t mind. The more Neurotypicals can understand about people on the Autism Spectrum the better. I'm in the position where I can speak for people, so I choose to. We are really not as mechanical as people think, although that can vary based on a lot of factors. There is a lot on here that is covered in previous posts and reading them will give you a greater understanding. This blog is public, but finding it sure isn't easy. I only show people I know and share a mutual respect for. Keep in mind that I’m 29, not 5, so don’t treat me any different than before I gave you this knowledge. And trust me, I’ll know if you are. 

What Is The Deal With My Hearing?

Since I was younger I have noticed a sort of constant static sound. I hear it most if not all the time. I only don't notice it because there is so much else in this world to hear. But once I hear it, like the ticking of a clock you notice in a room and then can't stand, I am stuck concentrating on it for a while. It may sound odd but I don't truly know why I hear this way. I try and describe it as 'listening to yourself hear. I don't know if this is AS related or how it could have come up. Let's go through some of the possibilities.

Loud noises such as whistles being blown near the ear or any other unannounced loud stimuli have never given me a problem. I don't necessarily block them out as I do ignore them. I have realized that they are going to occur whether I want them to or not and whining about it doesn't do anything. This may, like dealing with bullying and my overall mental toughness, be a temperament thing. I am able to get used to pretty much anything. Since I was younger, around five years old, i have heard my heart beat through my ear canal as I try to sleep. This gets annoying and the doctor said it is likely a fluid build up that can be drained, although I didn't ask how that is done. Still, my hearing is second to none, as was discussed in my earlier post Parade of the Senses: Hearing. Like the static that I usually hear I can easily detect a new static presence. If a TV is on but the screen is dark, or in a closed cabinet as it was in high school, I know as soon as I enter the room. I realize its not a groundbreaking feat, but it happens.

The static noise may be caused by metal detecting for the last thirteen years. A blast through the headphones every now and again from a large target could have taken a toll. Then what about all of the whisper like signals I frequently hear? Some barely register at all and I have to re-sweep the ground to make sure I really heard something. Is that my ability to hyper concentrate and notice changes or my keen hearing, maybe both? Loud music could also have been a factor.

I like my music on the louder side, but mostly so I can hear every little note as well as background noise. There are so many layers to 60s, 70s and other classic rock that I enjoy hearing. In fact if you listen to Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here, the original and not the remaster, you will hear the background static and wind like noise. Although much more subtle than that, this is what I hear constantly. There is no crackling, just a low noise that does not change in pitch or volume. You may think that this noise is enough to drive a person insane, but I do just fine.

I would like to try going in a soundproof room just to see if all of the electrical interference noise that is emitted by everyday items around the house or any given area might be the cause. After I notice static fields and all the devices may be to blame. Until I find out for certain, I guess I will never know.

Questions? Let me know.

How My Heart Equals My Brain (This gets personal)

Before I was told by an assessment that I had AS I had to take another test completely unrelated. I think I was either fifteen or sixteen and the doctor noticed that my heartbeat was not in sync. He was worried, as all doctors who don't wish to be sued are, about me possibly having an irregular ticker. For a day I was made to a heart monitor that would enable them to take a large enough sample from and determine if my irregular heartbeat was life threatening. The concluded that it was not and that I could resume playing sports. I do notice that, after physical activity, my heart does skip beats or does some odd rhythmic combination. The nurse taking my heartbeat before I gave blood one time asked if I had been tested, and I said I had and not to worry about it. Only a few months after learning that my heart was irregular I was told my brain was also. This had larger ramifications that I am still uncovering. The two are connected, however, but not scientifically as you are probably thinking. Look at the date of this post and you will understand.

It's not easy finding someone when you heart beat is not the same as theirs. After all isn't love finding someone whom your heart beats for? If you add into the mix that my brain will never be on the same page as an you NT's then you see where the problem lies. Right now you're probably wondering why I don't date someone like myself. Easier said than done. While she would understand what I am going through most people like us aren't into the touchy feeling stuff other people are. I am, though, and it may be too much for her. If there is one thing that I was given that is 'normal' then it would be sexual drive. My desire is just as strong as any other man but the kicker is that I don't have the social skills with women to be able to get to that point. I don't like confrontation as it sets off my fight or flight response. I've never dated and didn't even go to prom, and I was a star athlete in high school. By the time college rolled around (even though I played baseball there) I'd missed out on too much in the female department, and news travels fast. I'm sure I could have found some naive freshmen my junior or senior year but that time has passed. There is no one to blame but myself.

Aside from all of the above, why don't I just try to date a NT? Well, how is she going to understand? If I spill the beans she's likely to think I'm not capable of love or anything meaningful. When people hear the words autism or autism spectrum they assume things. There assumptions would be correct IF they were true. They don't even hear the word spectrum, just autism. If they knew that there were various arrays of autism and that we are not all like Rainman then I might finally get somewhere. I can't force them to believe anything. Being on the shorter side height wise doesn't help much either.

All the women on the dating sites I am on want a tall man, for reasons you can figure out for yourself. In my situation I don't need a '10' to start off with, just some girl who doesn't weigh twice as much as me. As for all the women who have messaged me, well, take a wild guess. I decided to play a little mind game with that, and since I'm only interested in casual dating at the moment because I'll be leaving for three months, I put my headline up as "If your deal-breaker is height, mine is IQ>120". This is appropriate because if they were smart enough to look past what they think is a flaw then they would see what they're missing out on. I understand no one will deduce that from reading that but, until I get back, who gives a shit. It will be nice to put 'Profession Goldsmith' into the occupation field and have some pictures of me at work. Women like jewelry, right?

One thing though, that I probably shouldn't even say but I'm going to, is that I don't want to end up with the first girl I meet. My teammates in college said that would happen to me. "Where is the fun in that?" and I must say I agree. I'm still young. I'm not saying I'm going to cheat (look up AS as it relates to love and you will see that one of the characteristics is extreme loyalty) but I have to at least see what's out there. Even so, how is she going to understand the lack of emotion she is used to, not being able to understand the nonverbal cues or why I'm awkward in most social situations? One thing I am capable of is moving on, and I know that means hurting people, which I don't like to do but I'm sure it will be necessary at some point.

It comes down to this: Find a woman my heart will beat for but she has to have a brain that can accept mine. She needs to be so mentally tough like myself by not taking the easy way out (after all I haven't turned to a hooker or gone after jail bait) and not be derailed by simple pitfalls. I know you're thinking it, but just in case...."Good luck!".

My Natural Speaking Voice

Honestly I don't know which voice is the one I started out with. I enjoy doing other peoples voices, so you could say I'm a mimic of sorts. I do so many others that I'm not sure which one is my own anymore. The typical Aspy voice is characterized by being very monotone, almost forced. I sound like a robot without any excitement in my voice. But I don't know if I have to try to do that voice, like a British actor doing an American voice or it comes naturally.

My voice took a dramatic change when I was eleven years old. I was at a friends birthday sleep over and then next morning I called my Mom for a ride home. She asked "Who is this?" and I had to answer a couple questions to verify who I was. I was puzzled as to why she made me do this and it wasn't until I realized that my voice had in fact changed that I knew why.

The way my friends from college know my voice is a very fast, rambling set of sounds that can loosely be described at sentences. one of my nick names among my teammates was 'subtitles'. This is completely true. When I talk, and am excited about something, much can be lost in translation. Most people just nod suggestively as most things I say are not important to begin with. I sometimes give friends this exact disclaimer, as funny as that may sound. Once again I don't know if this voice is natural or not, but it is one I have been using for quite some time so it might be. People do have an effect on me, so maybe being around them has a say on what my voice will sound like at any given time.

As far as other voices are concerned I like to do them because it distracts me from my own. I hate how I sound on the phone or anything that has been recorded. I don't feel that it sounds like me at all. This may all not sound important but voice is part of identity, and you always want to feel like yourself. The reason I do voices is sometimes I want to feel like someone else. There is one voice that does not change, however. That would be the one in my head.

And Then There Is Me

I like to see what my close friends are up to from time to time. Some of my teammates from college are getting married and having kids already. Others are in relationships and getting out of college mode into adulthood where a whole new set of stresses await them. We make time to see one another here and there or call each other when birthdays come around. It seems like everything in their lives is happening at once. I was thinking things had changed a little from my parent's time and people waited longer to get married nowadays. I guess when you love someone you just know it.

My friend/roommate from senior year Heather is getting married and I'm going to be a little more than just in the wedding. I'm making Tyler's, her fiancé and also a good friend, wedding band while I'm down at jewelry school. My official title for the wedding, as posted online, is "Bridesman"; which I couldn't help but find amusing. Changes seem to be happening all around me.

And then there is me. I went to a number of college parties with my teammates but nothing ever came of it for me. No one ever tried to introduce me to anyone; they just let me do my own thing. Everyone pretty much only cared for their own stats anyways. I must add that only a couple knew of my AS (I found out after school was over) and they didn't tell a soul. I've noticed women that I thought could have been interested, but was too shy to make any sort of move. You don't know what it's like to have a fight or flight reaction when thinking of addressing a female. I haven't come over that fear yet. The truth of the matter is I'm 26, I've been single since, forever, never dated and never went to prom.

It takes a toll on you, it really does. I'd like to have someone to turn to, other than people I already know. Someone who I can be both intimate towards and do things for. I think it's about time I had a girlfriend. I'm on a couple of sites but with no such luck. I'm leaving for Nashville in just over thirty days for three months of training so that puts a damper on things. Once I get back I'll be able to tell people, quite proudly, that I'm a professional goldsmith. How many of those do YOU know?

Questions or Comments? Let me know.

How Temperament Saved the Day

I was bullied when I was younger and it made me a lot tougher. It was all verbal and nothing ever got physical, so I guess I'm lucky on that behalf. That helped in enabling me to deal with sudden changes or when things got uncomfortable. You could say that, in an odd way, bullying helped me. With thick skin you can do a lot of things, such as keeping a clear head when the shit is about to hit the fan. No, I haven't seen it all, but things don't impress me like they do to others. Certain things do and certain things don't. I took a couple personality tests in college and one showed, clearly, that when things change rapidly I am in perfect harmony of three of the four factors that make up judgment in a given situation. Put simply, I am able to refrain from panicking, remain calm and think rationally in pressure situation. This ability assuredly helped me pitch at a high level. Speaking of pressure situations, guess what happened to me yesterday?

I was driving down back on 28 from North Reading after getting my oil changed. The latch that held my hood down was broken, and the guy having to use all of his might to open it for service did not help. If you have ever seen the movie Tommy Boy then you know exactly what this would have looked like. I was going about 50mph down 28, with two cars behind me, when my hood suddenly lifted and almost entirely blocked my view of the road. I could still see, barely, from the curvature of the nearest part of the hood to the driver (well, before the hood was up) that gave me about three inches to view what was in front of me. My rear-view mirrors were fine to see out of but I would much rather see in front then back. Honestly at the time I was more annoyed about having to pay for a new hood then anything else. They guy at the oil change place said I should get a new hood anyways. Well the safety bar being snapped from the hood rising so rapidly ensured his prediction. I called the place, could have called AAA, and they came out an used a couple coat hangers to latch it down until I got home. I wanted them to see it so I could assess whether they were liable or not.

In the photo I have provided you can clearly see the seam where the hood bent. Now imagine that whole thing covering the windshield. There is not much space to be seen where the curve is nearest the driver, that I was able to still see through when the hood lifted, (and I probably should have taken a picture before I got the hood replaced) but it is there.

I would like to know, what would you have done in a similar situation? Everyone I told the story to said they would have freaked out. I assume this means their outcome would have been different. My sister half scolded me for going that fast on 28 (In all honesty its a main drag and I was keeping pace with the traffic, so she can stick it) and I said back "Better there then the left lane of the highway going 80mph", which is true because I usually go fast in the left lane, as nature intended. If I had been on the highway I would most likely been less lucky or my car totaled by someone behind me. Also notice that in the title it says 'Saved the day' and not 'Saved my life'. There was no contact from any of the other cars, nor was there a sudden crash into the guard rail as I had to 'blindly' navigate a lane over to the parking lot of the restaurant I assessed the damage at. Anyone else would have embellished the story in one of a million directions, I chose not to.

Temperament has also made it that I tell stories that aren't half bullshit, as you hear often from people trying to make their story the biggest thing that has ever happened to them. If I am guilty of anything, I guess it would be that I tend to under sell things more often than not. My Dad always tells people that when I was a pitcher that I threw 90mph. If I am there when he says that I correct him by telling the other person that it was only 88mph. If something didn't happen, then it just didn't happen. There's no reason getting wound up about something that isn't worth it, or the honest truth for that matter.

Question or Comments? Let me know (although you never do).

Dealing with Childhood Anxiety

As a child I was not as in control of my anxiety as I am now. I can recall the first time I felt it.

I was young, probably about three or four and I was strolling along the walkway outside our house towards the stairs leading down to the driveway. I had just finished eating a packet of some sort of meteorite candy (similar to gushers but much smaller with no juicy center, the name eludes me now) and had pulled out another packet from my pocket when my sister said "Don't eat that, its got's calories in it!" Immediately I felt paranoid and thought 'Oh, no! What are calories?! Are they bad?! What is going to happen to me if I eat another packet of these?! Will I die?! Those thoughts raced through my head. I still think I may have eaten the second packet or even given it to her. Either way I felt legitimate fear based on the unknown, and after all that is what anxiety is, right?

Although unrelated to the aforementioned incident, I did have repeated tantrums where I must have felt an extreme amount of anxiety. These stemmed from not getting my way. I talked to my mother and she said it must have happened anywhere from 20-50 times. These were not your usual tantrums, though. I would scream until I passed out. My mom thought that I was dead the first time, but luckily our neighbor knew what was happening. I do remember one occasion of screaming and then hitting my head on the lower part of the cabinet at said neighbors house. That is really the only incident I can recall, the rest are lost by my brain, a rare occurrence.

As sixth grade started I got very anxious about a whole bunch of things. I worried so much and hard that I felt like I had a stomach ache. Ms. Macnamee gave me crackers to try and ease the pain I was feeling. I was so worried that I was going to be late for a class or forget my locker combination. It doesn't sound like something most kids would be worried about but for me it was a terrible thought the first week of sixth grade. I got over it and didn't look back. The move to high school had no such incidents.

I don't know when I learned to control most of my anxiety but I tend not to worry about the same things you do. We all have different things that can cause us to lose sleep. I see any problem as something that I will laugh about later, and I do tell myself this as I go through the ordeal. You know what? I have a lot to laugh about. The more success I have the easier it becomes to feel comfortable in an uncomfortable situation. I just think to myself 'Well, you've done this a million times, how about once more?'

Questions or comments? Let me know.